


Love, Inc.

by Aspens_corner



Category: American (US) Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Scottish Actor RPF
Genre: Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Escort Service, F/F, F/M, Rough Sex, Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27548419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aspens_corner/pseuds/Aspens_corner
Summary: Katherine Blake, a Seattle native, had seen many new business pop-up in the city; but none of them had ever been quite as enthralling as The Tower Hotel.She really hadn't meant to fall in love; she just wanted answers.
Relationships: Jenna Louise Coleman/Original Female Characters, Matt Smith/Original Female Character(s), Peter Capaldi/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

The flames crackling in the fireplace of Matt’s house illuminated the sitting room in an ominous orange glow. None of the lights were on, and so as the fire crackled and danced on the logs, long spindly shadows casted their way across the floor and up the walls. The entire aura of the room was creepy; almost fitting for what would occur on this night, unbeknownst to him.

  
He was settled in his easy chair, footrest up, leaning back into the cool leather he had come to adore. He clutched a book in his hands, an anthology of poems by Robert Frost, and was eagerly drinking up every word. Beside him on an end table made from polished oak were a lamp – unused for years – and a cup of chamomile tea. This was his nightly ritual to unwind from the stress of the day. His job was an exhausting one, and sometimes it was a long process to shed the persona of whatever character he had been tasked with playing.

  
Somewhere in the house, a clock chimed twelve times. Midnight. With a sigh, Matt bookmarked his page in his book, set it to the side, and rose from his chair. If he went to bed any later, he’d oversleep through his alarms and miss the arrival time for actors on set. As he grabbed his cup of now lukewarm tea off the table, something most peculiar happened.

  
There was a knocking at the door, heavy and insistent. Matt furrowed his brow; who on earth could be calling upon him at this hour? Quietly, he slipped a nearby pocketknife into the front left side of his jeans, and approached the door. Looking through the peephole, he could see his agent. Confused, he cautiously opened the door, and looked to the woman on the other side.

  
Sasha Barlow was a spitting image of the definition of average. She was around five feet five inches, add one or two if she was wearing heels. Slender and lithe, but not overly so. Her shoulder-length brown hair was frizzy and damp from the rain outside. But it was her eyes that stuck out to Matt the most – there was an excitement in them that he had only ever seen when she presented him with the most promising of opportunities.

  
“Sasha.” He greeted her with a warmness in his voice; despite the hour, it was good to see her – it had been well over a month since she had visited him. “What a pleasant surprise. Come in, come in. I have a fire going.”

  
She smiled, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. A slim packet of documents clutched in her left hand caught Matt’s eye. Wordlessly, she sat at the table in the adjacent dining room, and sat the packet down. The cover page of the file simply read, ‘Love Inc Project.’

  
To say he was intrigued would be an understatement.

  
“Matthew,” she began, drumming her acrylic nails against the wooden top of the table. “I have quite the proposal for you.”

  
He took a seat opposite her, eyes aglow with curiosity. He was enthralled, as he usually was whenever she presented him with a new project. She didn’t waste his time with things that lacked promise, he knew. So whatever this was, it was obviously incredible; especially considering she never came to see him this late at night.  
Gently, as though it were some sort of valuable artifact, she turned to the first page of the document. They sat in silence for a moment as her eyes scanned the page, doing a final once-over of the outline of the project. After a moment, she began.

  
“This will be life changing. You have been selected, along with other high-profile talent, to participate in a project that will be remembered for generations to come. There is a promise of great exposure, high profits, and a beautiful experience.” Her smile grew with every point she made. “It is a project of love, heartbreak, sex, and limitless fame.”

  
Matt leaned forward in his seat, fingers clutching the edge of the table. “How much exposure are we talking about?”

  
He had yet to make it very far outside of Doctor Who. He had become typecast. His fans often would only see him as The Doctor, nothing more. And it was agitating, to say the least. He was an actor. He had gone to school to fit into a variety of roles. And yet all he would ever be known for was some obscure occult sci-fi TV show on the BBC.  
“There would be an introduction to international audiences. The project is based in Seattle, but once it garners enough attention, I assure you, people will be interested in it from all walks of life.”

  
Matt nodded without hesitation. If this could be his opportunity to break free from the mold he had inadvertently gotten himself stuck into, he was more than willingly. Even though she hadn’t offered many details, he was ready to sign off and jump into the throws of whatever madness this was.

  
Sensing his eagerness, Sasha flipped to the contract. She rifled through her purse for a moment before producing a pen, and she slid both over to him. With shaking fingers, Matt took then pen, and on the dotted line, he signed: Matthew Smith.

  
He didn’t even think to read the whole thing over first.

  
Once he’d signed off and slid the packet back to Sasha, she closed it up, tucked it under her arm, and stood. “Thank you for your time, Matthew. We’ll be in touch.”

  
“Wait, would you at least like to stay for tea, or perhaps – “

  
Sasha gave him a patronizing smile. “That won’t be necessary. I’m afraid I have a few more clients to visit tonight.”

  
And wordlessly, she slipped out the door and into the cool London night, leaving Matt to sit at the table and wonder what on earth he had just gotten himself into.  
If only he had known that he wasn’t the only one who had received that exact same contract, at the exact same time, with the exact same pitch. If only he had known that he had just signed his entire life off to become part of one of the largest PR stunts the world would ever see.

  
If only he had known that things were about to be well out of his control.


	2. One

_Seattle, Washington, USA_

Katherine Blake hated winter. Despised it, actually. There was something about the chill in the air and the need for excessive layers that made her blood boil. And winter in Seattle wasn’t like winter in places like North Dakota, or Maine. There was no glittery white landscape for her to admire. Instead it was just rain. Cold, suffocating rain. It seeped through her jacket, mussed up her hair, and chilled her to the bone. And it was awful.

But there wasn’t anything she could do about it, save for moving, and that wasn’t an option because she had secured herself quite the position here. She was the chief editor at a local publishing company, and she doubted she’d find a similar opportunity elsewhere. She loved her job; loved pouring over manuscript after manuscript and finding the diamond in the rough. She’d seen writing of every different quality, some downright terrible, others something out of a dream. And she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

As she stepped out of her apartment and into the bluster of that January morning, it was a Tuesday like any other. The sky was a grim overcast, the clouds dark and heavy with rain that they would inevitably dump upon the Puget sound at any moment. Subconsciously, she gripped the handle of her closed umbrella just a little tighter, and began her walk to her office in the heart of downtown.

It wasn’t a far walk, maybe twenty minutes. Her friends always urged her to get a car, but in truth, Kate was terrified of driving. The roads were not a safe place, not for anyone. She had never gotten her license, and she didn’t plan on changing that. Besides, she didn’t mind the walk, and the exercise was nice. Her calves were all muscle from years of travelling on foot.

As she turned onto the street where her office was, Kate took note of a few new billboards decorating the sides of buildings. They all advertised something called _Love, Inc,_ and though she didn’t quite know what that meant, she found herself intrigued. New businesses popped up all the time in Seattle, but this one caught her attention more than the others ever had, and she didn’t know why. She made a mental note to call Elizabeth and ask her if she had heard anything about it, and quietly slipped through the front door of her workplace.

Work went well, as it usually did. She had been tasked with reading through the manuscript for a ‘revolutionary new fantasy series,’ as her boss had described it. And she spent the greater part of the day writing out a list about why it was exactly the opposite of that. The plot had been done before, over and over again, and the characters seemed to just be renamed versions of NPCs from videogames. Kate hated it when people wasted her time, and _that_ had been a waste of time.

When she got home, she set her bags down at her table and fumbled around in the kitchen, trying to decide what exactly to make for dinner. Soup, she decided. The rain had begun to fall on her walk home, and something warm and hearty would help to ease her ill mood. As the broth simmered away on the stovetop, Kate remembered that she had promised herself to call Elizabeth, and so she leaned against the counter and grabbed her cellphone, picking out her best friend from her contacts list, and giving her a ring.

Elizabeth and Kate had been friends since their sophomore year of high school. They were opposites in every possible way. Where Kate was laid back, relaxed, and went with the flow of life, Elizabeth felt the need to be in control over every possible thing. If she didn’t know – without a doubt – the outcome of a situation, she wouldn’t put herself into it. She was a walking list of plans and was always fixated on the ‘what-if’s. And if she disagreed with something you said, she would not hesitate to make that clear. She was outspoken, sometimes to a fault, but Kate tended to balance out that aspect of her personality when they were together, and would often find herself keeping her friend in check.

She answered on the second ring, with a cheerful (perhaps overly so), “Kate!”

“Hey, Liz, how are you doing?”

“I’m alright. Devon and I were making plans for this weekend. We’re talking about going to Pike Place and making a day of it. I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to come!” Her voice was full of enthusiasm, but Kate could see right through it.

Devon White was an okay guy, don’t get her wrong. He was kind, and giving, and loving – all qualities someone would want in a significant other. But it was very, very clear to Kate that Elizabeth _just wasn’t that into him._ Oftentimes, Kate got invited to tag along so that she didn’t have to talk to the man. Sure, it was nice to spend time with Elizabeth, but Kate would rather do that in a setting where it was just the two of them, and not make the poor bloke think _he_ was the one third wheeling.

“I’m actually busy this weekend.” Kate didn’t enjoy lying, but if it meant she wouldn’t have to tag along with the unhappy couple, it was worth it.

Elizabeth lowered her voice, “Kate, listen, I know you don’t like it, but I really, really need you this time. I did some digging and I found out he has a criminal record. An extensive one. And I want to confront him about it, but I need you there for moral support.”

Kate frowned, pausing for a moment to think it over, then, “How extensive are we talking here?”

“Burglary, assault, a few other miscellaneous charges. Kate, I can’t be with someone like that, you know that. It goes against everything I stand for.”

A sigh, a noise of frustration, and then, “Fine. _Fine._ I’ll tag along. But you can’t expect me to always be there to bail you out, Liz.”

“Yes! Thank you! You’re the best!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Anyways, there’s a reason I called. Have you seen the billboards around advertising that new hotel?” Kate tried to transition the conversation casually, but she couldn’t hide the intense curiosity that laid behind the question.

“Oh, I have! I actually heard from a coworker that the whole thing is quite weird. Apparently they’re _renting out time with celebrities?_ It’s the most peculiar thing I’ve ever heard.”

Kate faltered for a moment, brow furrowed in confusion. “You can’t be serious.”

“I mean, I haven’t seen it firsthand, but Erika was serious. She’s been there herself. The prices aren’t even expensive, Kate. This is so bizarre.” Elizabeth sounded just as confused, and Kate made a decision then and there.

“You know what, Liz? Fuck your date with the criminal dude. We’re going to go check this out ourselves.” Kate lazily stirred the bubbling pot of chicken broth on the stove as she spoke.

“I can’t just not go on the date with him, I –.”

“Liz, I am giving you an _out. Take it._ ”

Elizabeth sighed in defeat on the other end of the call. “Fine. Fine. But we aren’t actually going to rent time with anyone, right? It feels… wrong.”

“We’ll see. Right now I’m only going in with the intention of figuring out what this is about, but I make no promises. So, Saturday at… let’s say noon?” Kate couldn’t help the smile spreading across her face.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. This better be worth it, Blake.” Kate knew Elizabeth was upset with her whenever she referred to her by her last name, and she knew without asking that this meant that the phone call was over.

So when the line clicked dead, she wasn’t surprised.

With a sigh, Kate set her phone down, and turned her attention back to dinner. Saturday would be interesting, that much was for sure. But for now it was Wednesday, and it was time for chicken soup.


	3. Two

Kate had never seen The Tower Hotel in her entire life. It was new, according to a few passersby. A groundbreaking project, the hotel was fifty floors, and was built in just a few short months. It stood out on the street like a sore thumb, much taller than the surrounding stores. The outside was a brilliant bronze color, and a row of windows were dotted around each floor. _For the rooms,_ Kate knew, but she had never seen so many goddamn windows on one building before that wasn’t a skyscraper of offices.

Kate shuddered, a chill snaking its way down her body. No matter how many layers she wore, it never seemed to be enough to shield her away from the bitter cold of the winter. Elizabeth was late by more than a half an hour, and Kate was beginning to lose her patience. With a grumble, she pulled out her phone and pressed Elizabeth’s name in the contacts menu, just as she had on Wednesday night.

“Kate, hey, how are you doing?” He voice was just a chipper as it always was, but there was an edge of nervousness to it.

“Where the hell are you, Elizabeth?” Kate hadn’t been this angry in a very long time. She rarely got truly angry. But getting stood up was something she couldn’t ever be okay with.

“Oh, is it Saturday? Gosh, the dates completely slipped my mind…. I’m so sorry. We can reschedule for next - .”

“Cut the bullshit. You’re at Pike Place, aren’t you?” In the background of the call, Kate could hear the bustle of the marketplace.

“I – Listen, Kate. I wasn’t about to stand up Devon. I’m not like that.”

“So you stood me up instead? Some kind of fucking friend you are. Enjoy your overpriced avocados, Liz. I really hope they’re worth it.” And just like that, she had hit the end call button, and it was done.

Something told her they wouldn’t be on speaking terms again for quite some time.

Kate set her anger to the side and returned her focus to the task at hand. If Elizabeth wasn’t going to come, that didn’t change anything. All it meant was that Kate was going to have to do the investigative work on her own, and she didn’t mind that; She worked better solo, in all honesty. And she wouldn’t have Elizabeth breathing down her back, reminding her every two seconds that this was, ‘decidedly a very bad idea.’

Stepping foot into the hotel was like stepping into another world. The walls and floor were all solid white marble, with black streaked throughout. The only things to be found in the lobby were a counter with a neon purple ‘Love, Inc’ sign behind it, and the entrance to what was presumably an elevator. Behind the counter was a receptionist, who was the kind of pretty that was somewhat sickening. Her hair was a brown-blonde ombre. Her skin was a fake tan that bordered on orange. She’d obviously had a few surgeries done – her nose was abnormally dainty, and her lip gloss coated lips were done up with fillers. Oh, and she chewed gum. Loudly. Like a horse.

Kate approached the counter with a sense of confidence that was convincing, but internally she knew it was extremely fake. Behind the heels and the black minidress, there was a woman who was almost scared of what she would discover here. This was either a very ridiculous PR stunt, or something far more sinister was happening here. She was determined to get to the bottom of it.

She wasn’t quite sure why she had taken such an interest in this project, or why she was more interested in this than her job suddenly, but she decided that she was just going to roll with it. Maybe she’d discover something interesting. Maybe she’d break down something illegal. Or maybe she’d just pay to sleep with an actor she admired, and feel nothing but regret afterwards. All options seemed appealing.

Either way, she needed to play it cool. She needed to act like she belonged here. Obviously only the most elite were supposed to be able to utilize this service; they wouldn’t offer something this insane to the general public, there was no way. And so Kate assumed an aura of pretentiousness – something she was decidedly not good at .

“Hello, and welcome to Love, Inc at the Tower Hotel. My name is Lindsay. How can I help you today?” The receptionist’s voice matched her appearance – nasally and valley girl-esque. Kate already hated her and she hadn’t even said anything in response.

“I’ve only just heard about your business here, and I was wondering what services you offered exactly?” Kate smiled warmly to hide her nerves.

“Ah, a newcomer. Lovely. Here at Love, Inc we offer some of the most exclusive packages at an extremely affordable price. Our most popular package is twelve hours of uninterrupted time with a celebrity of your choice.” Lindsay launched into what was obviously a scripted schpeel. “Prices vary on who you pick, but the low point is five hundred, and the high point is one thousand.”

Kate paused. Surely she must have misheard this woman. _Five hundred dollars_ for _twelve hours with a celebrity?_ That was impossible. Booking fees for an hour at a children’s party were higher than that. There was no way that she had heard that correctly. There was _no fucking way_ a service this insane was offered at a price point that was accessible to the general public.

“That’s rather cheap, isn’t it?” Kate asked with a tone of incredulity to her voice.

“Mm, I wouldn’t call it cheap. I’d just call it affordable.” The receptionist smiled. “If we charged astronomical prices, nobody would want to use the services, now would they? This isn’t a venture exclusively for the elite – this is something groundbreaking that should be able to be enjoyed by people from all walks of life.”

“And the celebrities, they’re all here willingly?”

“You sure do ask an awful lot of questions.” Lindsay’s smile faltered for a moment, but she regathered her composure quickly. “I assure you that all of our talent is here voluntarily. There is no sinister underlying motif. Just good people offering a good service to the general populace.”

For some reason, her words did nothing to quell Kate’s anxiety about the whole thing. But she took the statements at face value, and took a deep breath to steel herself. Her head was positively spinning; who had come up with this idea? How had they gotten so many famous people to agree to this? What did twelve hours of quality time mean? Could you do _whatever you wanted with them?_ That seemed so morally wrong. Surely there were stipulations.

“Are there any rules?” Kate asked.

Lindsay laughed – no, cackled. Head tilted back, eyes closed, laughter that shook her whole body – then stopped when she realized Kate was staring at her expectantly. “Oh, you’re serious? I mean, just don’t murder them and you’re good. Other than that, anything’s on the table. Could be platonic, could be romantic, could be… something in between. Point is, what you do behind closed doors is your business. As long as it happens in this hotel, we don’t care. Though, consent from the person your with is recommended, of course.”

“In the hotel? So we can’t leave this building with them?”

“I’m afraid not. That’s the only other rule. All activities must occur within the room you’re assigned. They’re good rooms though, don’t worry. Kitchen, bathroom, living space, bedroom. Each room is like a miniature suite. Very nice.” Lindsay reassured, though Kate hadn’t particularly been concerned about the accommodations.

They couldn’t leave the hotel. They were stuck here. Their lives for however long this whole thing lasted would be confined to a suite, and nothing else. She shuddered – she couldn’t imagine having to do something like that. If she had to stare at the same walls every single day, she’d lose her mind, she was sure of it.

“Okay. Well, ah, who… who exactly do you offer?” Kate transitioned awkwardly; she felt weird asking that question, like she was ordering an escort. Maybe some people viewed it like that; like they were just prostitutes with status. The idea of that made her feel ill.

“Oh, you name someone, we probably have them. Big names, small names. Quite a nice variety. You look like you’d appreciate someone like Tom Cruise. Or maybe something new? A woman perhaps?” Lindsay waggled her eyebrows.

Kate’s cheeks bloomed a deep scarlet, and the cold lobby suddenly seemed twenty degrees warmer. “Ah, I’m alright, thank you though. Can I have a list of celebrities to choose from that maybe haven’t really been picked by anyone?”

If she was going to get answers, she knew that she needed to find somebody that wasn’t rolling in profits from this whole venture. Talent that had been selected rarely or not at all was probably her best bet, as they would likely be angry at the project for wasting their time. Kate looked at the receptionist with a kind smile, but Lindsay had her brow furrowed in confusion. Obviously she was onto her, suspicious of the many questions and odd requests Kate had. But Kate found that she didn’t care; what was the worst that could happen, really? If she was going to be a paying customer, it was highly unlikely that they’d kick her out or ban her from the hotel. Kate knew these types of people; they only cared about two things – themselves, and money.

“Right. We’ve got….” Lindsay typed something in to the keyboard of the computer in front of her. “Mark Ruffalo, Freema Agyeman, and Peter Capaldi. The three of them have seen no guests since we opened.”

Kate had heard of all three of them. How could she not have? They were big names in their respective fanbases. She was confused as to how none of them had gotten any guests, but she realized she was in Seattle. It was mostly younger folks, and the appeal for older men and a lesser-known supporting character in a British TV show was probably close to none. But hadn’t Lindsay said that they were attracting clientele from across the globe?

She snapped out of it. She was overthinking every little detail, and it was beginning to eat away at her resolve. She needed to make a decision, pay the fees, and see what happened. Standing here assaulting the receptionist with questions wasn’t going to get her any of the answers she _actually_ needed. And so, without thinking so much, she said the first name that came to mind.

“I’ll do Capaldi.”

“I mean, if you’re sure. Like I said, though, we have people like _Brad Pitt,_ you know. You don’t _have_ to pick a sixty-two year old man out of some kind of pity.” Lindsay frowned. “But I can tell I’m not going to change your mind, so suit yourself. We have a couple packages. You can do an hour, six hours, twelve hours, or twenty-four hours.”

“Twelve hours will be fine.” Kate surprised herself with that one; what was she going to do when she ran out of questions for him? Were they just going to stare at the ceiling? Would she be forced to make awkward small talk? She wasn’t going to sleep with him – it felt far too wrong.

“Alright,” She dragged out the ‘l’ sound, pressing some more keys on the keyboard. “That’s gonna be five hundred and fifty.”

Kate was glad she had came prepared as she dug through her purse for her wallet; she hadn’t originally been planning on paying for services, but she had decided to bring money with her _just in case._ And apparently, she had brought far more than necessary. A thousand dollars in her wallet in cash, in addition to her checkbook if she had needed more than that. With a deep exhale of finality, Kate handed over the money to Lindsay, who took it with a wide smile.

“Thank you.”

Lindsay turned to a phone next to the computer, dialed in some numbers, and pressed it to her ear. “Hey Alex. I need you to send Capaldi up to room twenty-seven. No, I know, I tried, but she’s got herself convinced. I know. Just send him up, will you?”

Kate didn’t need to hear the other end of the conversation to know that they were making fun of her selection. But she didn’t mind. She wasn’t here for the reasons she was sure many people were – she just needed answers.

Lindsay hung up the phone, grabbed a set of keys from a drawer in the desk, and handed them to Kate. There were two keys attached to a tag that was made from red leather, that had the number ‘27’ embroidered in with gold. Kate smiled, and this time it was genuine. She didn’t know what lay ahead, but she knew it was sure to be an adventure.

“You’re gonna be in room twenty-seven. Take the elevator up to the second floor, it’ll be on your right. Enjoy your stay.” And Lindsay looked away, back to her computer screen.

And with that, Kate headed towards the elevator.


End file.
